Welcome to London
by Sunday Rain
Summary: It all started with a rat bite… TR. One-parter (I think)


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Author: Sunday Rain

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Rating: PG-13 

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Spoilers: Yes. 

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Disclaimer: Don't own characters from GG. 

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Summary: It all started with a rodent… T/R. One shot.

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A/N: Just something that was swimming in my head. I couldn't sleep so here it is… I don't know if its any good at all, but if it is, please tell me (if its not, you can too). I think its just a one-parter, but it could be expanded… I don't know yet. Read and respond, and hopefully you'll enjoy it, cos I enjoyed writing it. 

Welcome to London

It all started because that damn rat bit me. 

Past two in the morning, completely jetlagged and exhausted from moving, with my new apartment not homey at all, I was sleeping on a lumpy mattress with a thin sheet. It had taken me hours to get to sleep after crying my eyes out over my stupid "glamourous" job which wasn't at all that, moving across the Atlantic; and then, this _damn rat_ bites my big toe!

I awoke, startled at the pain jolting through my right foot, and looked into the pitch black of my room only to see two beady eyes stare back at me. I shrieked. Now, I don't think I'm _that_ sissy of a girl, but it was _huge_. I mean, enormous, like it was on steroids or something. In my hazy jetlaggedness, for all I knew it could have been some _wild_ non-domestic animal.

Wincing, I snapped the light switch on, illuminating my crappy, undecorated, apartment in all its glory. Boxes strewn all over the place, reminding me of the task I had tomorrow.

I surveyed the damage that damn rat did and noted that my toe was _bleeding_. Like a mofo. 

That's when I noticed that I had thrown the sheet cover over the rat, and it was struggling to get out, wiggling and writhing _in my bed_. "AAAAAAAAA!!!" I shrieked, and leapt out of bed, landing on the injured toe. "AAAAAAA!!!"

Grabbing the nearest thing to my hand, an umbrella, handy for those oh so foggy London days, I whomped the bed as hard as I could with it. The rat stopped twitching. I then proceeded to entrap the rodent corpse (or what I hoped was now a corpse) with an empty moving box. _I win_, I thought triumphantly. 

The feeling wasn't long lasting, as my injured toe throbbed and continued spilling my lifeblood literally all over the wooden tiles. Either I was gonna die here tonight, alone, due to blood loss, or I was gonna die later on, alone, of tetanus. Or, I could go running around London, a strange new city, and find myself a hospital and prevent either of the two above from occurring.

I gently wrapped my toe in spare toiletpaper as best as I could to prevent further drippage, and then, after placing my feet gingerly in rubber flip-flops, I threw on my windbreaker and limped to the door.

Shivering outside my apartment building on the curb, I stood waiting for the Johnny the doorman to hail me a cab. He had given me an odd look seeing me stumbling out of the 'lift' in my cupcake pajamas, but after I quickly explained in as few syllables as I could about the dangerous rodent upstairs, he had rushed to my aid, promising to call the exterminator right away and to help me get a cab.

When the black cab pulled up, I yanked the door open, thanked the Johnny hastily and fell inside.

"Please take me to the nearest hospital," I said to the driver.

"Which hospital would that be ma'am?"

I groaned. "I don't care, just the nearest one…"

"Oh but that depends on—"

"Look!" I interrupted, "I just got bitten by the largest, ugliest rodent I have ever seen, I'm new to this city and my toe is bleeding all over your seat, so just put your foot on the gas pedal and _drive_!" I screamed.

That did it. Crazy Mr. Cockney pressed his foot against the accelerator and off we went, nearly overtaking a drunk young couple on the road.

Around fifteen minutes later, we pulled up in front of the emergency room doors of a hospital. I threw some bills at the driver, not bother to count. "Keep the change! Sorry I yelled!" I rushed, or, rather, quickly hobbled, into the hospital. It was empty, not like New York City on a Friday night. Well, maybe Londoners did their partying less wildly.

"Excuse me?" I asked, tapping on the partition between myself and a nurse, "But I a rat bit my toe and now its bleeding profusely. Could I see a doctor?"

The nurse yawned, blinked up at me confusedly for a moment and then startled, probably realising what I had just told her, instructed me to fill out a form and went to call the doctor.

It wasn't long before the nurse came back. "Sorry about the delay, its been quite slow so I nodded off…" And rambled on.

I smiled politely not wanting to seem rude, but _my toe was bleeding, hello!_ So I coughed quietly and said, "Uhm? Nurse? My toe—" I pointed, "Its not okay."

"Oh! Hehe, silly me. I'm so stupid, I wonder how I even get this job sometimes." _I wonder to_. She giggled nervously. "I'm Nurse Belinda by the way. The doctor will be with you in a minute. Meanwhile, uh…" She looked at the form I filled out, "Ms. Gilmore, I'll just get this nasty bite cleaned up." She proceeded to poke and prod at my toe with alcohol cleanser and cotton balls. 

"There," she said finally, placing my foot back down. "Why don't you move here to the bed, so the doctor can examine you."

Just then, a tall, tired looking, blonde, handsome man in doctor's garb walked up behind her. "Alright, Belinda, what's this about a rat bite?" He was looking down on the clipboard he was carrying, hair mussed and tossed all over the place.

Something about that voice hit me. He wasn't English, that's for sure. American, I placed the accent… But that wasn't the only familiar thing… I felt, it was someone I knew. 

He looked up. It hit me. Those blue eyes with that recognisable little spark in them. There was only one man who looked like that. Tristan Dugrey.

"Tristan?" I let out an involuntary gasp.

He blinked. "I'm sorry?" He looked at the clipboard again. "Rory? Rory Gilmore? Is that you?" A smile spread across his face. I couldn't help but smile too. A familiar face in this strange city.

Belinda looked from me to Tristan. "Doctor Dugrey, Ms. Gilmore here has just been bitten by a rat. I've cleaned up the wound and—"

"Yes, yes, thank you Belinda," Tristan interrupted. "Could you prepare the tetanus shot?"

I winced. I didn't like needles.

Tristan saw that. "What's wrong, Mary? Afraid of a little needle?"

I groaned. "You still remember that? How old were we then? Sixteen?"

Tristan shrugged, "You were memorable." I couldn't help but smile at that.

"So, what brings you here to good old London, anyway?" Tristan continued, as he inspected my toe. 

"Work," I sighed. "Reuters. I just moved into my apartment today and I wasn't aware that I was sharing living quarters with a giant disease infested rodent creature thing." Curiousity got the better of me so I asked, "Why are you a doctor?"

"Why not?" was his reply.

"I just thought you'd be a…lawyer, or a businessman. Something that'd bring in the money," I shrugged. 

"This brings in money too," he defended. "Maybe not as much, but then again I don't need that much. I just like doing this, taking care of people, you know? But if its any consolation, my father has a place waiting for me back home in case I ever get tired of pulling all-nighters and the smell of isopropyl alcohol."

I laughed along with him. Then Belinda returned with the needle kit and handed it over to Tristan—or _Doctor Dugrey_—who started prepping my skin for a shot. 

I took the time to study the man in front of me, the man who had certainly grown up since the last time I saw him. He was older, granted, but his boyish charm seemed to remain. The whole doctor aspect made him more serious-looking, although he still looked good, if not better than when we were in high school together. I wondered why we never kept in touch. Then again, our goodbyes were pretty short and swift.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sting of the needle going through my skin. I involuntarily reached out to squeeze his arm, the only thing within reaching distance. "Aaa…"

Tristan chuckled. "There. That's done. Don't cry, you're a big girl now."

"Don't mock me," I gritted my teeth in annoyance. "I've been through quite a lot within the past few hours!"

Tristan helped me off the bed and we headed back toward the receptionist area. "Do you need me to call you a cab home?"

"Thanks," I nodded. 

"Belinda," he turned to the nurse, "Could you please call the cab company and ask for one to come here please?" Then he turned back to me. "So, I take it that this greeting doesn't really bode well for your phone call home about London huh?"

"Yep. I mean, jetlag, moving, I can deal with. Work, lots and lots of work—I mean I've only been here a few weeks and already heaps of work. I hate working in hotels and I had to. And then moving into this apartment, where its still filled with boxes…" I shook my head in disgust. "Its hard."

Tristan nodded in sympathy. "I understand exactly how you feel. When I moved here for the last part of my residency, I was a wreck. I was at the hospital almost 24/7 and when I came home I was too tired to unpack. I ended up living out of boxes for my first few months. But you'll settle in eventually like I did, even if it takes a year… This is a really beautiful city. A great country. You'll learn to love it."

I smiled at him. "Hopefully. But, I hold you responsible if I go nuts and don't adjust as you say."

Although a small chuckle came out of him after that comment, Tristan just looked at me in this odd way. I couldn't really place the emotion. It didn't leave me feeling uncomfortable, just warm and oddly, safe. 

Belinda interrupted by announcing that the taxi had arrived. 

"Uh, thanks…" I said. "For…everything."

Tristan jolted out of his reverie. "No problem." He led me to the door. "By the way, I love your pajamas."

I blushed. "Bye, Tristan," I said and turned and headed toward the cab.

Suddenly, I heard footsteps join me. "Wait, Rory." It was Tristan. I halted and turned around. 

"Yes?" I smiled.

He stopped in front of me and ran a hand through his tousled hair. "I, uh, was wondering where you live here…"

"Its on my registration sheet, Tris," I said, placing a hand on the door, making my way inside.

"No…wait," Tristan placed his hand over mine. I glanced down at it, confused. I looked up at him, and found myself caught in his gaze, and I couldn't break away from it. 

I knew it was coming before it came. Tristan leaned down and placed a soft, gentle yet passionate kiss on my lips. "I owe you a kiss," he smiled, when he pulled away. I couldn't utter a word. "Welcome to London… Mary." He turned around and jogged back into the hospital.

I glanced after his figure, speechless. Then a great burst of laughter exploded from inside me, from the bottom of my stomach. I couldn't stop it. I got into the taxi and headed home.


End file.
